


The Meet Cute

by le_chat_vilain



Series: Gangs of Middle Earth [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gangs of Middle Earth, Gen, coarse language, hobbit modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_chat_vilain/pseuds/le_chat_vilain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tauriel's night off is interrupted by a call from the boss, resulting in a chase through the streets and a run in with a handsome stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meet Cute

_Urgh, what now?_

It was supposed to be her night off. This was supposed to be Netflix and ice cream with Pablo night, a night for specifically not answering calls from the boss. Then again, she knew better than to ignore a call from Thranduil, especially when it was in leisure time he’d given her; he was normally very respectful of her personal time. It must be important. Storing the spoon in her mouth, she leaned across the couch to reach her ringing phone, pausing for a moment to dance to her ringtone.

“Yeah?” she said, answering the call with a delicious mouthful of Ben & Jerry’s.

“Put on some pants, put the tub away, and meet me at the club in thirty minutes,” his voice answered back, though it wasn’t tense as she’d expected, he actually sounded vaguely excited about something. What was most baffling was the fact he knew exactly what she was doing. 

“How did you…are you watching me?”

“Educated guess. Oh, and make sure my son is with you. He won’t answer my calls, but I bet he’ll answer yours,” he said in an insufferably smug tone, before ending the call. She heaved a sigh and looked down at the fluffy white cat in her lap.

“Sorry, Pabby, duty calls.”

Pablo removed himself from her lap with a serve of side eye that would make a drag queen applaud, and slunk off to most likely leave her a pungent revenge present in his litter tray. Tauriel dawdled to her bedroom, opened her wardrobe and stared for a minute. She pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a gold satin camisole; he hadn’t sounded like anything was wrong, so perhaps just this once she could get away with looking nice. Her eyes moved to her extensive collection of mostly unworn shoes, and in spite of the voice in the back of her mind telling her not to, she selected a pair of pumps: black patent leather with clear paneling and a pointed toe. After applying a very quick and minimal amount of makeup, she tied her long red hair into a sleek ponytail, turning her head from side to side to make sure that it was centered and she hadn’t missed any strands. She thought about changing her earrings, but decided that her usual flat, gold studs would do.

Making her way to the door, she took her leather motorcycle jacket from the coat rack, and erring on the side of caution, grabbed her scuffed up, old biker boots. If there was any dirty work to be done tonight, she most definitely would not be ruining her Loubitons.

Reaching the basement parking garage, she walked briskly towards her Bentley, wishing it wasn’t pissing down rain outside so she could have instead taken her motorcycle. Tossing her jacket and boots into the backseat, she hooked her phone up to the integrated Bluetooth system, and hit the number two button on her speed dial to call Legolas.

She hated being Thranduil’s middle man when it came to getting a hold of his son, but he was right, Legolas would always answer her call no matter what – or often who - he was doing. Tonight was a spectacular example of this when he answered panting like a dog, and she could hear at least two women and possibly another bloke in the background.

“Hey, you, what’s up?” he answered, a smile audible in his tone.

“When you’re done sticking your dick in everything with an orifice, which had better be in the next twenty minutes, meet me at the club. We’ve been summoned,” she said authoritatively. This wasn’t the first time he’d answered her call in the middle of his favourite activity. He seemed to think that sleeping with the entire city would hide the fact that he was so clearly in love with her.

“Cock blocked by my own father. And here I hoped you were calling to get in on the action. Fine, I’ll be there.” She didn’t say anything before disconnecting the call and pulling out onto the rain soaked street. The roads were thankfully quiet on a night like this because only the mad would drive in this storm. 

As she drew closer to The Greenwood District, the buildings changed from well maintained high rises with doormen and bellhops, to worn old brownstones in varying states of disrepair, with stray cats milling around overflowing trash cans, and shady characters brokering nefarious deals on the stoops. The road became cracked and full of potholes, and she cursed under her breath at how much these damn streets cost her in wheel alignments every year. Once upon a time, The Greenwood had been a beautiful and upmarket district, home to the wealthy social elite of the 1940s. The dilapidated and overgrown community gardens were once thriving and vibrant, alive with songbirds, and smelling sweet as a spring meadow. Now they just sat neglected, snarled masses of branches and weeds ruled by rats and ruffians alike.

Finally the brownstones waned and the warehouses and neon lights of the district’s west side came into view. Swanky clubs and dive bars had bought some new life into the area, but in the harsh light of day there was no escaping the fact that this was not a friendly part of town. She pulled up out the front of Mirkwood, and tossed her keys to the valet.

From the outside, it didn’t look like much, just wrought iron framework over a red brick wall, covered in sprawling ivy that climbed its way three stories to the curved roof. The lights of the club inside could be seen through the large glass window of the upper levels, the window through which an old printing press would have once been visible. To her surprise, Legolas stood waiting by the carved wooden door, sheltering under the awning and chatting away to the bouncer while he rolled a cigarette. He looked like a less stylish clone of his father in black straight cut jeans, a v-necked green t-shirt, black leather bomber, and distressed Dr. Martens. His long blond hair was pulled back into a messy, knotted loop at the nape of his neck revealing braids just above his slightly pointed ears. There was no denying that he was attractive, he was after all his father’s son. How neat life could be if she could love him back, but Tauriel had never been the kind of girl who wasted time on such frivolities.

“That was quick,” she remarked to him on approach.

“I’m sure they’re getting on just fine without me. They certainly were when I left…” he replied, sounding decidedly bitter. “Let’s just see what he wants now. So much for a fucking night off…”

She couldn’t help but empathize with him as the bouncer pushed open the heavy doors and a rush of David Guetta and vodka and Redbull assaulted their senses. They stepped inside and handed their coats to the attendant before passing through a curtain of fake but very realistic ivy vines and into the club proper.

The interior of Mirkwood was nothing short of magical, blending nature and industry to perfection. The dance floor sprawled out before them in a cavernous atrium, a long bar curving from front to back on their right, and a water feature and indoor pond to their left, a model dressed as a mermaid posing playfully on its banks. The walls at the front of the club were covered with living ivy. Iron framed flower buds hung suspended from exposed wood rafters, the comfortable cushioned seats inside them full of stylish revelers chatting and flirting like it were their last night on earth. A large portion of the ceiling high above was glass, allowing the flashing of lightning to add to the ambiance. The rain created an enchanting effect as it hit the glass and ran off the convex surface. The club was surprisingly busy given the weather, and of course that it was a Thursday night. A sweeping staircase on their far left led up to the mezzanine level that housed a main central bar bordered by several VIP booths fashioned from re-purposed art deco era train carriages. Gazing up, Tauriel saw Thranduil leaning with both hands on the iron railing, looking out over his domain. When he spotted them, he stepped back and beckoned them to follow with a turn of his head. They ascended the grand staircase and made their way towards his private booth.

“Close the doors behind you,” he said as they scooted in, Legolas doing as commanded of them, latching the dark wood sliding doors shut.

“What do you want, father?” Legolas demanded, making his displeasure all too apparent.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt your quest to shag the entire city? How dare I. You don’t see Tauriel bitching about me interrupting her ice cream binge do you?” Legolas looked away, chastised by Thranduil’s scathing sarcasm. Tauriel felt her cheeks blush and her stomach mourn its loss. “In case it had not occurred to you, I did actually summon you for something important.” 

“So what’s the emergency? Am I going to need to change my shoes?” Tauriel asked. Thranduil peered down under the table to take a look at her feet, raising his eyebrows in admiration and contemplation.

“Yes,” he responded. She knew it had been too good to be true and immediately gave herself a mental high five for her foresight. “The Sons of Durin have found a way into The Erebor.”

That explained it. This was huge. She had only ever heard stories about The Erebor, it had happened not long before she was born. When he had appointed her his second, Thranduil had explained how it was a double edged blade to them, how it had the power to be both phenomenally good for business and phenomenally bad. Historically, the casino’s activity had always been good for the more illicit side of the Hîlrim’s business. Casinos meant bachelor parties and wealthy businessmen, and that put the demand for whores and drugs through the roof. Unfortunately, it also meant that people started to spend most of their money at the casino and not at Mirkwood, which meant the legitimate side of business suffered to the point that it became hard to square the books with the authorities.

“But how? That whole district has more booby traps than an bloody Tomb Raider game!” Legolas exclaimed, the shock clearly registering with him as well.

“Apparently they have recruited some kind of master burglar, the one that’s been in the news. That is as much as Elrond could tell me. I trust I do not have to explain to either of you the delicateness of this situation?” Tauriel and Legolas simultaneously shook their heads. “If they get in there and manage to revive that place, we need to be on their good side, or they could ruin us. I have worked too hard the last twenty years to lose this city to a fucking Durin.”

“Alright, then what’s the plan?” she questioned, wondering what there was for them to do this early in the game.

“They will undoubtedly come down from the back hills and start to scope out the lay of the land again. I want you to make sure your people have their ears to the ground and their eyes peeled. I don’t want a pin to drop in this district without my knowing about it, you hear?” he leant forward pressing his ringed index finger into the table and eyeing them both sternly. “Starting tonight.”

Of course he would expect them to get out there tonight, in the pissing down rain. At least they could text the dealers and street walkers, but they would have to track down the handful of homeless informants on the payroll on foot. The shelters would be their best bet on a night like this, but Tauriel knew of at least one hardened hobo would be toughing it out in some doorway rather than swallowing his pride and asking for help. She turned to Legolas and they shared a weary internal sigh; it was going to be a long night.

“Is that it then? Because if it’s all the same to you, it sounds like we’re in for a busy night,” Legolas asked, standing and extending his hands over his head, stretching to his full height. The hem of his t-shirt lifted exposing gently defined muscles and a sprinkling of blond hair above his belt. Definitely attractive, and yet definitely not her type. 

“Yes, that’s it. I expect one of you to report in to me here before last call.”

Legolas unlatched the door and they marched themselves back down the stairs and out the doors of Mirkwood, grabbing their jackets from the cloakroom on the way.

“Right, I’ll send a message out to my lot, you do your dealers. Tell them there’ll be a reward if anyone can give us decent information. Sightings, conversations the like. Then we’ll hit the shelters,” Tauriel instructed.

“What about old Radagast? It’ll be a pain in the arse to find him on a night like this.” Legolas was right. Finding Radagast in this weather would be a nightmare, but he was the best, and given that the competition for that title also included hookers and strippers, that was really saying something.

“We’ll worry about him last. Ask at the shelters if any of the others can tell us where he might be.” The valet pulled the white Bentley around to the front of the club and handed her the keys.

The shelters proved to be a bust, so they started out on foot near the old botanical gardens. The rain had let up and was now petering to a light drizzle which they were both thankful for. In fine weather, Radagast could almost always be found in the old gardens, but he would have had to seek shelter from the storm somewhere. As they rounded the corner out of one of the alleyways, Tauriel spotted two strange looking men.

“Oi, what do you make of them?” she asked Legolas. They were both on the short side, sporting combat boots and worn old jeans. The slightly shorter of the two had golden blonde undercut hair, tied into a bun at the crown, the taller wore a beanie with wavy black locks peeking out the bottom. But none of that was what made her question this particular pair. It was the plaid flannel shirt tied around the hips of dark haired guy that had set off her warning bells.

“They’re a bit short I guess,” Legolas answered. “What’s your point? People are allowed to be short you know, T.” 

“Not that you idiot! Look at what they’re wearing,” she hissed as they gained ground on them. “Nobody wears plaid flannels around here. Follow my-”

“Oi! You two!” Legolas yelled after the poorly dressed strangers, and with quick glances over their shoulders they took off running.

_Jesus fucking Christ, Legolas!_

They chased them a block before the flannel clad lads split up. Legolas went in pursuit of the blond man, which left the taller and apparently faster plaid wearer to Tauriel. Fortunately for her, it quickly became clear that he had no idea where he was going when he turned down a fenced off alleyway. Just as he was about to climb the wire, she whipped the pistol from the back of her jeans, flicked off the safety and took aim.

“Stop right there!” she barked, pulling back the hammer so that he heard the click. He raised his hands either side of his head and turned to face her with half closed eyes and soft chuckle on his lips.

“Aye, ya got me, love,” he called out, a thick northern accent confirming her suspicions that he was indeed with the Durins. He was actually quite handsome in a rugged kind of way, and she found herself hoping she didn’t have to shoot him; it would be doing the world a great disservice to rob it of such a fine piece of man candy. When he opened his dark eyes and drank her in for the first time, she knew in an instant that she had an even greater upper hand in this situation than she thought. “Come on now, gorgeous girl like you, you ain’t gonna shoot me.”

“You think so, do you?” she said, quickly squeezing off a round into the pavement at his feet causing him to jump, and the smile to vanish from his face.

_Not so cocky now are we? Oh I know exactly what I’m going to do with you._

As if summoned by the pop of the gunfire, the blond man appeared on the other side of the fence, and it was clear that in spite of their differences in colouring, the two were likely brothers. Legolas came barging through the back door of one of the buildings that used the alley as a service point, and stood there slack jawed as Tauriel let them escape.

“What the fuck, Tauriel? You had him! What were you fucking thinking?” he screamed at her, digging his fingernails into his scalp as he ran his hands through his hair.

“I am thinking ahead, something that you might want to learn how to do,” she replied calmly. She had a plan, and it was one that she knew Thranduil would go for, because nobody loved a good infiltration quite like he did. “What’s the time?”

“0250. That still doesn’t-”

“Alright, go home. I’ll head back to Mirkwood and report in. I have a sales pitch to make anyway,” she said cutting off whatever it was he was going to say next.

“It better be one hell of a fucking plan because I am not taking any responsibility for this shit, you hear? He’s not happy, you’re on your own,” Legolas said, walking backwards and vigorously wagging a finger at her before jamming his hands in his pockets and turning the corner back onto the main strip. She knew he didn’t mean it, that boy would move heaven and earth for her if she asked him to. After making her way back to the car, she once again departed for the nightclub.

Thranduil was lounging in his booth, nursing a glass of red in one hand, and staring into space, deep in thought.

“So what’s the word on the street then?” he asked without moving a muscle to look at her.

“What would you say if I told you we not only confirmed they’re in the district, but that I found a way into their ranks?” she rebutted, heart pounding as she waited for his response.

“I’m listening,” Thranduil replied, finally setting his pale blue eyes on hers. She described the encounter in all honesty to him, as she always did. He informed her that the two men they had encountered were most likely Oakenshield’s nephews, Fili and Kili. “And you let this lad escape, for what purpose exactly, my dear?”

“Because the only other person who looks at me the way he did is your son,” she said, lips twisting into a smug grin along with her boss’s as he caught her meaning perfectly. “Love is weakness, isn’t that what you always taught me?”

“Tauriel Silvan you shady lady. You always were my best student,” he remarked, shaking his head and grinning at her like the Cheshire cat. “It makes me think Legolas dodged a bullet when you chose power over love. Alright, that’ll be all. Keep me in the loop.”

“Always do,” she said as she rose from her seat and began to make towards the stairs.

“Oh, and Tauriel?” he called after her. She turned to face him with a questioning expression. “It probably goes without saying, but, don’t go falling in love with the fool.”

“Love? Me? Look at you making jokes!” she quipped with a half hearted giggle and an amused smile.

“Glad to hear it,” his tone was suddenly sinister, and when he looked up at her from the glass in his hand, she felt the joy drain from her face as apprehension took hold. “Because make no mistake, love, you cross me, and I will kill you.”

She nodded at him and took her leave, not doubting for a second how serious a threat that was.

  


 

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have first looks at Tauriel and Legolas! I know, Legolas is a bit of a dick but I promise there’s a reason for it, like I said, nobody’s perfect in this world and everybody has their issues and their ways of dealing with them. I hope I did a good enough job describing Mirkwood to you guys, I’m not normally one who goes into big descriptions about settings and people, so that kind of imagery is shaky ground for me still. It’s based off a hybrid of Cloudland in Brisbane, and The Toff in Melbourne, two of my favourite bars. 
> 
> Slapped a T rating on it for language and sex mentions.
> 
> If you’re after a soundtrack for this one, it’s Hey Mamma by David Guetta ft. Nicki Minaj and Afrojack. I imagine the chorus kicking into full swing as they enter through that vine curtain.
> 
> Of course this story is inspired by artwork created by Tumblr user Nuggles.
> 
> I hope you guys like it and the Legolas fans out there don’t slay me for turning into a bit of a dick. I promise he's not 100% a dick though.


End file.
